A Hero's End
by Vampire Punter
Summary: Sometimes, saving the world isn't all it's cracked up to be. (Destiel)


Dean pressed his face into the cooling warmth of the angel's hair. They had won, somehow - the world was now safe. It was a small comfort, considering. He breathed in, the pain in his ribs like a whiplash as he coughed, warmth flowing to his lips, sickly sweet and coppery and making him gag. This was it; he'd taken too many blows this time. It was okay, though - Sammy was gone, cut down as the first wave of Demons flew at them under Abbadon's command. The stupid moose had fought like a tiger, but there were just too many.

Dean and Cas had held out, until near the end. They managed to finish the ritual out in the field, the fallen angel the only thing keeping Dean standing in the face of it all after he saw Sammy go down. They'd almost done it when Abbadon herself had appeared, her new vessel smirking down at them with glittering black eyes. Dean tried, he really did... but he'd been too slow to keep Cas from getting hurt. Her hand went straight through his chest, his eyes going wide as the blood bubbled out of his mouth. Dean had screamed Castiel's name, some unnamed emotion welling up inside his chest, strangling his heart - Cas was his best friend, his only real friend, his brother. His brothers were gone, it was just him, and ... that /bitch/...

The last Winchester growled, rushing at the demon that had taken the last of his family from him, grabbing up the angel sword from the makeshift alter that was the platform of the spell they were working. Abbadon laughed, and with a flick of her wrist Dean found himself flung back into the alter. That sadistic bitch... she was really getting off on this. Maybe it was a mistake to knock Crowley down a peg, after all. This shit was infinitely worse.

Dean groaned, staggering to his feet. He could feel his broken ribs shifting, his breath causing sharp stabs of pain streaking through him. White hot agony flared as he felt his guts ripped apart from the inside - Abbadon was grinning wickedly, twisting her hand in the air.  
Fuck, it was not supposed to end like this... and then Castiel was there, the sword Dean had dropped held in his fist as he stood behind the Knight of Hell. He was dying - there was no way he was gonna make it with a hole in his fucking chest - but the look in his eyes could smite an archangel at a hundred paces. He thrust the blade through Abbadon's back and the demon fell, screaming, crimson light pouring from her eyes and mouth. Cas gave the hunter a weak, triumphant smile, and then simply expired - his task complete, he had saved Dean's ass, again. For the last fucking time.

Dean choked back a sob, but it wasn't done yet. He dragged himself, sputtering, to the demon's smoking corpse and scooped up a handful of her blood, then dripped it into the waiting bowl. He spoke the words that would seal the spell, then flicked his trusty Zippo, dropping it into the mixture of herbs and oils and blood.

There was a concussive blast like a nuclear fallout, and the battlefield went quiet. Dean lay on his back, his eyes moving weakly around to observe the carnage. He couldn't find Sam - his heart clenched in panic, and even that caused a wave of pain to shoot through his ruined body. Then he saw the dirty, blood-covered trench coat in a heap and his heart stopped.

Cas.

A choked sob escaped him and he began to pull himself toward the body of the former angel. Somehow, Cas was still barely hanging on; his eyes were glazed, the blue fading to a dull shade of their former glory, but he smiled. He was too wounded to speak, his lungs filled with fluid that choked his every labored breath, but then he did the most amazing thing...

Cas lifted his hand, gently brushing against the hunter's cheek, and drew him down, pressing his lips against Dean's... and then he sighed, becoming nothing more than a weight of flesh and bone in Dean's arms.

Dean's heart froze, his eyes wide as he still tasted Castiel's blood on his lips. A sudden realization struck him as he looked down at the beautiful, peaceful face; he loved Castiel. He had always loved Castiel, that stupid fucking angel that did anything and everything, all for Dean.  
He could feel his own pulse fading as his body slowly gave up, battered and broken, but it did nothing to quell the pain in his heart. He loved Castiel, and he hadn't realised it until it was too fucking late.

Sobbing, he pressed his lips to his fallen angel's, willing life into that stupid face, but there was nothing.

Without shame, Dean Winchester cried, holding his angel in his arms with his face buried in that tangle of dark brown hair until he no longer had breath in his lungs to sob.


End file.
